THE CRC Three Do Britain

Our Support from Threshold Sports:

I feel
humbled by the sponsorship received but also awestruck at how well the actual
event was organized by Deloitte and Threshold Sports. A fully functioning camp for 900+ riders was
relocated every day and it functioned perfectly. It wasn’t just the tents, there were marquees
for catering including kitchens, a café, bar, laundry and drying facilities, mechanics,
medical, massage, physio, yoga and stretching facilities as well as the toilets
and showers.

On the road we had marshals on motor bikes, medics and mechanics patrolling, not to mention the team of awesome chaperones also cycling the whole route, leading groups, sweeping up stragglers and lending a hand and wheel whenever needed. Some doubled up as physios in the evenings, something I was to learn later. This was their tenth year, and a well-oiled machine it is. Was it worth the cost, yes! You could see where it all went and it was also reflected in the quality and quantity of the chef’s (Lulu) cooking every evening. One of us would gain the nickname ‘Three Puddings’ for the rest of time. I’ll leave you to guess who that might be.

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The Route

The 980 mile route, comprising nine stages through some of the most
scenic areas of the country, many of which were new to me, was superb.
It was certainly worth the extra hundred miles it added to the direct
route. The scenery in Scotland was so breathtaking it almost distracted
us from the remnants of Hurricane Dorian!

The Task Ahead

The War Party and ‘Tis But a Scratch

Cottingham
Road Club was well represented, with Neil Catterson, Rich Habbershaw and myself
in the expedition south for the start.
We clubbed together for a hire car and left East Yorkshire to drive to the
Penzance drop-off on the 6th September and then travelled from
Penzance to Lands End by taxi.

We were all
rather subdued on the journey down, all very apprehensive about the task
ahead. Rich did the driving and was the
first to get stressed out when we dropped off the hire car to grumblings of a
lost deposit due to some tiny scrape on the bodywork, which was there before
but not logged on the paperwork. To his
relief, it was soon sorted with a few calls to the depot in Hull and he could
return to getting stressed out about 980 miles instead.

Weight Training

I learnt during the transfer to the taxi in Penzance that my ‘16kg allowance’ bag was a tad overweight, I could barely lift it, I hadn’t purchased the extra weight allowance to 23kg so was likely to have issues with Threshold, fortunately I didn’t and they just gave me a wry grin as they hoisted on and off the lorry each day. I also foolishly neglected to consider the upcoming impact of having it contain a lot of wet kit. It was only 15kg when I weighed it at my first packing attempt, however, this was before I bunged in a few extras, and then a few luxuries and then a few ‘well I might need…’ items. As I lugged it around I would soon be questioning the need for hiking boots when I was simply too tired to mooch around much in the evenings.

Base Camp at Land’s End – Moved Every Day!

Land’s End Base Camp and What, No Bonfire!

Although I
hadn’t done as much training as was recommended, nowhere near, I was more
anxious about the camping aspect. The
last time I went camping I was wearing a woggle, singing Kum-by-Yah by the fire
and was getting badges for doing knots.
Despite being rather daunted by the camp site experience, we were soon
put at ease by the electric atmosphere, the food, the briefing from the
Threshold Sports Crew and a medicinal beverage, or was it two.

Strategisin’

While
supping a beverage we discussed our master plans for the event. My main theme was survival, to take it very
steady for the first two very lumpy days hoping my confidence would grow and
then see how I feel. Rich was very much
in agreement, to keep our matches unburnt, play the long game! Adam Hardy had advised that there are two
schools of thought, the ‘steady approach’, or the ‘push hard and get more time
to recover’ approach. Both made sense
but the hard option could lead to burn out whereas the steady approach could always
be pushed on later if feeling spiffing.
Neil didn’t nail his colours to the mast, leaving us guessing.

Knowing we had an early start everyone was in their tents sleeping by 9pm ready for the tannoy blaring ‘Let’s Get Ready to Rumble’ at 5am and a very hearty breakfast.

No Turning Back….

Day 1 – Lands End to Okehampton (105 miles and
approximately 9000 ft of climbing)

We all met
up very early, stuffing down a full English and then getting ready to
rumble. Well, after I spent ages trying
to manhandle my bag to the transfer lorry and carefully trying to avoid
injuring my back. This was the only time
I could eat the breakfast, oddly finding I had no appetite at all in the
mornings for the rest of the event. A
tough day to start, it would seem nothing in Cornwall is flat!

Live Long and Prosper

The weather was very kind, warm, sunny and no wind or rain. Early in the day we gained a stunning view of St Michael’s Mount and stopped for a photo while looking fresh and unruffled having only cycled a few miles. The fresh look didn’t last as before our eyes Rich aged 20 years over the nine days. Reminded me of that scene in Star Trek ‘The Deadly Years’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3qV_a8KT_U), but like Ensign Chekov, Neil remained unaged throughout.

The Dynamic Duo

The route would take us from Land’s End to Penzance and in
land towards Truro and on to Bodmin Moor and up to Launceston before riding the
old A30 to Okehampton.

Cornwall, the Land of Underestimating Road Signs

While we plodded on as a group all the punchy climbs began to tell and the first feed station was a welcome sight, if somewhat manic. So many riders, queues for food, drinks and toilets, it was chaos in quite a confined space but we were soon sorted. The coffee van was doing a roaring trade and had every tea under the sun. It was a regular welcome sight for the rest of the ride.

Feed Station First Call

We were
heading for Bodmin Moor, but all roads had more energy sapping punchy climbs,
but then this was the leg with the most climbing. Up and down on the Cornish roller coaster!

The road
took us past Lanhydrock with its manicured gardens before crossing the A38 at
Doublebois and on to the second feed station before the grinding climb to
Minions being the highest point of the day.

After the we regrouped and sped on downwards for the tricky twisting descents towards Launceston. We enjoyed this section as the bulk of the day was done and we would soon be into the slightly less lumpy Devon.

It was now the undulating old A30 to Okehampton and Base Camp 2. I had
seen Okehampton on many road signs with the miles indicated and was
counting them down but every time I checked them against my Wahoo we
appeared to be doing 50% more miles than the signs were telling us? I
wonder if this is why the pace of life down there is slower, there’s
some sort of relativistic phenomena? Reaching the camp, it was time to
quickly settle into an efficient routine as it was essential to use the
time well to maximise recovery time/sleep.

It was a gillet stuffed up my jersey!

It was somewhat
sobering to think we had to do this another eight times but we were all pleased
we had got through one of the hardest days.
As it turned out this was the last opportunity to get all of us in the
same photo as our strategies evolved.

Before the Reality of the Situation Dawned

So, wipe
down the bike, lube it and get it into the storage area while making a note
where it is as it’s amazingly hard to find it amongst 900 others in the dark
when your tired brain fails to recall the mental navigation markers you thought
you had remembered.

110 on the Bike, No Problem, Walk Across a Field with a
Bag, No Chance

Then tent
allocation, and the tummy wrenching realization I was as far from the luggage
lorry as was possible. Stopping to rest
three times, the bag was eventually hauled to the tent and I spotted Neil was
in the same area but he already had everything stowed, showered and was ready
to eat. Graciously, he lent a hand.

It Wasn’t Me, Honest

So, shower, change, dinner and briefing at 8pm with a beer and then bed. Sounds simple but with 900 or so people all doing the same thing you need focus and organization, or simply try to do things in different order to minimize any queuing. A lesson I should have learned was to set out the sleeping gear earlier as trying to fumble about inflating a mattress with an internal foam pump (after watching a you-tube to show me how), in the dark with little elbow room and whilst exhausted, was a real pain and it made some rather rude ‘pffft’ noises, which I am sure must have raised a few nearby eyebrows. Well worth it though as it was surprisingly comfortable. Slept like a log.

Every Man for Himself

Neil and
Rich were better organized in the mornings and in the following days they always
got started earlier than I did and Neil choose the ride harder, get back for a
beer sooner strategy to enjoy more recovery time so was in a different time
zone altogether now. So, the first order
of each day was to catch up with Rich.

Day 2 –Okehampton to Bath (110 miles and approx. 6500 ft
of climbing)

Erm, Where’s My Bike?

A Few Quid Here

Following the morning call of ‘Eye of the Tiger’, my morning theme for the rest of the ride emerged. I couldn’t eat at 5am, I could only drink tea and force a little bit of porridge down and struggled to get moving or find my bike. As a result, I got to the start about 30 minutes after the others. Once out on the road I was motivated to catch them up, spotting a likely suspect or two at the first pit stop. Neil was just leaving and Rich was queuing for food.

Stunning Scenery

Say “Cheese”

It was another tough day with many steep climbs and descents including Cothelstone Hill and Cheddar Gorge, two tough climbs. Riding together after the pitstop Rich and I got a bit competitive (who’d have thought that might happen), me giving him a beasting on Cothelstone and him returning the favour on Cheddar when he snuck in behind and, seeing a photographer, choose his moment for maximum psychological impact.

To Busy Overtaking to Know He Was About to Pounce

Clickety click

I was
suffering an infuriating noise on climbing was getting significantly worse and
it was becoming an obsession to track it down.
I must have tried 66 (see how many twig the reference) different adjustments
and experiments from pirate pedaling to bending things but couldn’t pin it
down. So, a visit to the mechanics at
the end of the day thinking my crank bearing was shot. Turned out they couldn’t work it out either.

As it
turned out the Gorge was a long long slog and we were soon back together before
I got a second wind and we lost each other again only to regroup again and lose
each other again later.

Herding Cats

It seems we were simply a terrible group, Neil fitter and quicker and miles up the road, Rich quick up the hills and even paced while I was all over the shop with highly variable pace as my ‘wind’ came, lingered about a bit and went several times. The result being that we simply couldn’t ride together although there was a familiar presence on my wheel quite often.

When the Cheddar Gets Milder

We were
soon into the scenic views from the Quantock Hills and Mendips and then the architecture
in Bath. Again, the weather was kind but
it was forecast to change overnight for the next day.

More
Cheese Grommit?

We climbed up to Crediton to take the roads via Shobrooke Park and on towards Bickleigh. Cruising up Upton Hellions onto Stockleigh Pomeroy, where we met a few old friends in a field, Shaun the Sheep, Grommit and a Paignton zoo gorilla.

A Grand Day Out

Completing
day two gave us all a lot of confidence.
Two tough days ‘on paper’ done.
However, at the time we were so underestimating Scotland, always a
dangerous thing to do!

Have Pity on an Old Man

This was our only night in a proper bed as we were guests of the University of Bath and were able to use their Halls of Residence and campus facilities. Luxury! I was even rewarded an offer to help me with my bag. A lovely young lass made the offer, to which I declined but she grabbed it anyway and hoisted up like it weighed nothing. Gobsmacked, I fell in behind feeling very weak and feeble.

After spending ages getting lost around the campus and getting a massage booked, I eventually found Neil but had to stuff my dinner down quick to get to the evening briefing. We had guests to give us a pep talk, including Shanaze Reade (BMX World Champ and GB Team track cyclist), who would be riding with us the next day. There were a few celebs around but I’m useless at recognizing them, bar Shanaze that is.

Track & BMX Star Shanaze Reade

Blimey, Three!

At the
briefing, about a dozen riders were presented with the prized ‘Golden RAB
Jersey’ that are only awarded to people that have done three RABs. Awesome achievements.

Day 3 –Bath to Ludlow (101
miles and approx. 5900 ft of climbing)

I awoke
early from a good night’s sleep and immediately got up showered and dressed and
went down to collect my laundry. Overnight
my kit had been washed and dried. On the
campus everything was more spaced out involving more walking so more time to do
things.

I couldn’t
eat at all. Despite feeling confident that
two hard days done, I was still a bit anxious as although I have ridden two consecutive
days in a row, never three 100+ miles in a row. After dropping the bag off and then resting
for a few minutes, I discovered I was one of the last to leave as there were
very few bikes left. It made finding the
bike easier. Starting with dry kit was
nice, which lasted all of 100m as the heavens opened.

Plug Not Pulled, Very Wet

We would
climb out of Bath, I am told every way out is up, well, like a bath I
suppose. We hit the Bristol area in
commuter time on a Monday morning, nice! However, after the climbing of the previous two
days this would be a nice transition day and perhaps the easiest day’s riding.

We were
soon crossing the Severn Bridge into Wales, past Chepstow Castle and then
following the River Wye, a truly stunning area.
Ross-on-Wye was noted as a future place to visit for a holiday.

There’s Longer Bridges in Klopps Teeth

The Severn Bridge wasn’t what we in East Yorkshire call a proper suspension bridge, being a bit on the short side! The bridge is showing its age although the view along the estuary was good. We were drenched from steady rain, which never stopped all day. Sadly, a lot of glass was present on the bridge cycle path causing dozens of riders to be fumbling with cold wet fingers to fix flats.

Must Be the Only Severn Bridge Pic With Nobody Fixing Flats

Beware Left Turns

Andy Cook
the route designer was determined to use safe roads without traffic and also
ones where the scenery is stunning. One
characteristic of Andy’s routes we had quickly learnt over the first two days
was that left turns usually meant changing down in a hurry as there was always
a damn steep hill around the corner.
Always!

Rich managed to ride with Shanaze Reade for a while, but she gave up after 35 miles of trying to shake him off her wheel.

Blimey, Even More Cheese or Give me Those Calories

Reaching
the feed station, I realised I was I was becoming very partial to toffee
custard desert things, Jelly Tots and Malt Loaf. The feed stations were quite similar each day
but little extras could be found to make it more interesting, today it was freshly
cut pineapple and melon. You soon learn
on a ride like this that you eat whatever, whenever it is presented but there
was always some quality savouries too. Replenishing
your energy was paramount, something I am usually terrible at, but I was
learning! As always, a few extras were
stuffed in the back pockets.

A nice
climb up a tree-lined road brought us to a thunderous descent into Ludlow where
we climbed the main High Street and down the other side to a fast A road. We were soon at the racecourse where we were
staying the night. A treat awaited, a
luxury cheeseboard, which was a lovely touch as you got off your bike.

Very Apt Snack Straight off the Bike

A beer and Lulu’s superb food wrapped up another great day.

Awesome But Only Just Enough Puddings

Biohazards

The racecourse was interesting in its setting and also proved to be the only dodgy bit of support we had with a kit drying room that didn’t. Would have been good for a steam bath though, if it wasn’t for the aroma (indescribable!).

Day 4 –Ludlow to Haydock (107 miles and approx. 4000 ft of
climbing)

Today’s
morning call was ‘Wake up Boo’ by Boo Radleys and we were greeted by a drizzly
and overcast day.

Bloody Lancashire, Can’t Even Do Weather

Our first
‘easy’ day. Views of the iconic
Stiperstones and a day transitioning from rural to industrial heartlands and
over the Manchester ship canal. Predictably,
as we approached Manchester the rain set in hard.

It was this
night that I was reminded of one of the ‘joys’ of camping, once you have wet
gear in your tent everything else becomes wet too! As I found out the next morning, wet gear
isn’t the best thing to dress with at 5am.
Spent a few idle minutes trying to understand out how dry stuff was now
wet. My theory is condensation, the wet
gear produces loads more on top of your breath and as the temperature falls
overnight it condenses on everything.

Oh the Embarrassment, a Fecking Brompton

As
repeatably requested at briefings, whenever passing people we had to shout ”on
your right” as a warning. This could get
a bit tedious when passing lots of solo riders with loads of room so I picked
my moments when there was limited room or streams at different speeds. Nearly got caught out, started to pass a
group and another group came steaming past me bombing along. Right in the middle of the train was a guy on
a Brompton. It still bugs me that this
guy zipped past me every damn single day late morning.

One of My Fave Pics

Bingo!

A further
irritation was the unidentified clicking was really getting worse, on every
uphill section it sounded like clackers!
Another try with the mechanics later.
This time it was diagnosed, it was the head bearing. I left the bike with them expecting a bill
for a new bearing but as a temporary fix they had repacked the bearing with
gunk that looked like Copperease. It
worked, and it got me through but still needs replacing.

Homer Type Drool Time

What a Sight to a Starving Boy

The Deloitte surprise tonight was special. Deloitte had arranged for double Rio silver medalist Becky James to bring her cupcakes as a treat. She has retired from cycling to concentrate on her baking business. They were divine and I loved the carrot cake ones.

Becky James, Double World Champion (Wearing her Minsk Medals)

Cycling Royalty

To our
complete shock, at the evening briefing we received our pep talk from none
other than Sir Dave Brailsford and he dropped a bombshell. This was the first time he has made it public
he had just recovered from prostate cancer.
I’m sure just having him around made some marginal gains the next day!

The One & Only

Day 5 –Haydock to Carlisle (116 miles and approx. 6000 ft
of climbing)

Queen’s ‘I want to Ride My Bicycle’ woke the
camp to a very wet morning.

We’ll Deliver Anywhere It Seems

On the
third (rainy) day, Rich pulled out his swanky Velotoze to keep his tootsies
roasty-toasty. In his haste he put his
foot straight through them. Somehow, he
managed to find a mobile signal, ordered a new pair of overshoes with the
delivery address some field at Haydock.
Unbelievably, here they were waiting for him to use. Good timing as well!

Manchester, A Bad Influence and Unlearning Law-abiding
Cycling

As we made
our way through Greater Manchester we had a hideous time with dense traffic,
long delays and probably the worse bit of the whole ride. As someone that had never ridden in urban traffic,
I was keeping strictly by the book but my patience eventually went and I joined
the many others riding down the gaps in the middle of the road passing miles of
stationary vehicles.

Manchester Must Have Heard Me Badmouthing It

After navigating all this, my first real problems started beyond the expected fatigue and the bike issue. Three punctures before the first timed pitstop. Glass in the tire fixed only to find cold wet fingers had missed another shard, which stopped me again after ten minutes. Then, the next inner tube burst when pumped up. Finally, up and running, I was under pressure the rest of the day to keep ahead of the broom wagon (the van used to pick up stragglers and a failed day).

Hi Ho Silver, To The Rescue

Luckily, a
chaperone, Nathan helped me with the punctures, stayed with me to give me a
wheel and also called the mechanics for more tubes after we went through my two
and his spare. He then paced me through
to the pitstop with the broom wagon hot on my tail as I was nearly an hour down
on the cut-off time. His advice was that
if I could keep up same pace, I would be back in the main field by the second
stop. As it turned out I had begun to
feel the fitness building and, pushing on, soon got back on schedule and saw a
familiar face at the next stop. Rich got
to hear of all my troubles before he set off and I went to get fed and watered.

Another Olympian, Nathan Robertson (Badminton)

I found out later that the chaperone was none other than one of the most unassuming Olympians around, Nathan Robertson who won silver in 2004 in Badminton mixed doubles with Gail Emms.

Putting Red Rose Misery Behind Us

As we left
the industrial areas and headed up through Preston we could see the Lakes and
we gained a sense of foreboding as we knew the mighty Shap Fell climb was
coming after passing through Kendal (see below for the ‘bump’ after the half
way arrow). At least the weather
improved the further we got from Manchester.

Despite the fitness I was feeling, the extra effort began to tell and I realized I had been so focused on catching up I hadn’t taken on enough fluids and food. Exhausted, and with a new knee pain that had started on the 8 mile Shap climb, I reached Carlisle, ate and went straight to sleep. I must admit being a miserable unsociable **** that evening. Probably Manchester’s fault.

Sneaky Place to Get in a Feed Station

Day 6 –Carlisle to Hopetoun (nr. Edinburgh) (114 miles
and approx. 5200 ft of climbing)

Through
Gretna Green and on into Scotland with a steady (very wet) climb onto higher
ground. Fantastic views of the Lowther
Hills, the River Clyde and our first view of the Forth Railway Bridge.

Iron Bru, Made From Girders and Roads From Boulders

Into
Scotland and the roads were either brilliant, smooth new tarmac or rough as
f*** that were shaking teeth loose. At
home, we do road ‘dressing’, but here, they have to be all macho and use
boulders, none of these namby-pamby southern chippings here. What with the roads, the hurricane, mountains
and rain, Scotland was to be constantly conspiring to keep us English out.

Odd really, they gave us a fabulous rousing welcome, we were ‘piped aboard’ with some highland sword dancing too.

Damn, What’s the Safe Word

The knee
that had ached the day before quickly became a serious issue. After every stop it became more painful to
get going again. The day completed, I
found I couldn’t walk after getting off the bike. Feeling totally beaten, I hobbled off to see
the Physio.

The verdict was mixed, I should abandon but it could possibly be ‘managed’ with daily physio, massage, high cadence and painkillers. My quads had gone so tight they were pulling the kneecap off kilter so it wasn’t tracking properly. This caused wear and pain. In an effort to keep me going she gave me some extra time to give the quads a right pummeling. I don’t mind admitting I was whimpering! It did work a little, I could walk and hope began to return that I could go on. Rich and Neil were great, helping with sympathy, encouragement and more painkillers although, as you can see below, Rich was feeling the strain too.

He Could Lift His, But the Legs are Going

Haggy McHaggis

I must
admit, I didn’t hold out much hope I would be able to set off the next day into
the lumpier bits of Scotland despite the allure of trying to spot the mountain
haggis, that rare species with its right and left legs of different lengths,
enabling it to quickly scurry around steep mountains. It is a fluffy animal
whose fur is long and mane-like, the clockwise species with the shorter right
legs and the anticlockwise variant with the shorter left legs. If you think about it there has to be two
species, they can’t mate!

I Remember That Hill

Day 7 –Hopetoun to Strathdon (nr. Bellabeg) (112 miles and
approx. 8000 ft of climbing)

Wakey wakey, Mark Ronson ‘The Bike Song’.

A Grand Set of Bridges Here Mr Bristol

Lambos Everywhere or Up, Up and Aweeeee (Hoping the Brakes
Work)

Our first
full day in Scotland, and what a welcome starting with views of the bridges
across the Firth of Forth. The scenery
become stunning as we passed through Perth following the beautiful River Dee
into the Grampian mountains, and began our 35 mile ascent of the
Cairngorms. This really ramped up after
going through Glenshee, seeing a huge convoy of supercars coming down having
decided it wasn’t the right kind of snow for a spot of skiing. We went up past many Swiss style cottages,
up, and up some more to the Glenshee Ski Resort advertising ski hire whilst it
was glorious sunshine….until we reached the summit when the rain came down
only for the brightest rainbow to appear beneath us in the valley.

Our Deliotte Cheerleaders with an Apt Message

The climbing was hard on the knee but I was keeping the loading low by pedaling at a high cadence whenever possible. This also helped with the fatigue; I began to feel fitter and hope returned that I would finish the event. The descent was intense, having never experienced anything like it but huge fun!

Day 8 –Strathdon to Bonar Bridge (Kyle of Sutherland) (118
miles and approx. 8000 ft of climbing)

Wake up
call, ‘Jump Around’.

This was an
absolute blighter of a day, beginning with the iconic ‘Lecht’, which was the
toughest climb on the whole route. It
immediately ramps up well over 20% and had many people off their bikes walking
up. Just when you think it’s becoming more
manageable it ramps up again. Another
ski resort at the top had our much needed first pit-stop. The descent was a thrill, hitting well over
50mph, which soon ate up some miles.

Did I Mention the Hurricane?

To reflect
the toughness of the day a third pit stop was provided. It was during the third and final pit-stop
that the wind hit hard. Dangerous
crosswinds would be with us as we went towards the east coast. I had caught up with Rich, who had been very
rattled by the crosswinds already and was planning to bail for the day. The organizers rounded up all the riders and
for safety reasons advised the riders to abandon the final 35 miles and take
busses provided to the next camp site.
Many took the offer, but to his immense credit, Rich joined me in accepting
the risk and we carried on regardless.

When we reached the campsite, we all realized that the final day was nearly upon us but we were sobered by the prospect of turning into the gales and rain the next morning.

An Awesome Shot

Day 9 –Bonar Bridge to John o’ Groats (104 miles and approx.
5000 ft of climbing)

Wake up
call, ‘The Final Countdown’.

Maybe I Forgot to Mention The Hurricane or ‘Hey Dude, Seen
My Tent Anywhere’

The wind
battered the camp overnight and so sleeping was an issue for many, as was
keeping their tents grounded, many were blown away when not weighed down by
somebody and the camp was struggling to stay functional.

The day’s
ride started with a steady 30 mile climb up to the very isolated Crask
Inn. So, uphill and into horizontal rain
from a headwind gusting up over 50mph!
Wind chill become a big factor and quite a few called for assistance
suffering from hypothermia and there were many blankets used at the stop. I had gone for many layers but as they were
all wet, it didn’t help much.

Turning
into the remote splendor of the Strathnaver Valley gave some relief from the
wind but it wouldn’t be until we hit the north coast at Betty Hill would it
become helpful.

OMG, The North Coast at Last

After Betty
Hill, eight rolling climbs took us along the rugged, isolated coast towards
Thurso. These climbs were the final
straw for the troubled knee. At the
final pit stop, just over 30 miles from the finish, I could not continue.

No More Going North

Pedal Like a Pirate

I spent a
while with the medics undergoing treatment of various types and encouraged by
Rich and some handy painkillers, I eventually returned to the bike to slog it
out. Heavily favouring one leg on the
pedals for some time while the poorly one just revolved, helped free up the
knee a bit. Suddenly, I was a man
possessed, the finish was within my grasp.
All the worry of the previous few days was gone, the fitness I had built
up came through and I sprinted the last ten miles, much to Rich’s surprise. I nearly cried when I saw the desolate white
buildings of JoG as the stress of the last few painful days was suddenly released.

It was
amazing to be greeted by cheering crowds in JoG. Not surprisingly, a beer was consumed before
our coach back to Inverness for the night.
Arriving in Inverness at 11 at night on a Sunday night isn’t a good idea
if you are hungry, and our standards were very very low at that point!

Numb Nuts

You’ll be thinking by now that Neil ‘three puddings’ Catterson has got off light in this article, having ridden so well, untroubled by any of it and having a complete breeze of a ride, alas no, he was suffering in stoical silence and we suspect he’ll be looking for a new seat when he gets home.

Enough Energy Left to Smile, Just

Who’s the Old Dude?

The queue for the official photos was huge so we went DIY. I found some old guy to take mine and returned the favour.

Random Old GuyThe Full Set

The Verdict…..

Would I do it again? For sure, I learnt a lot about my riding and food/hydration needs and how I reacted to the workload and would love to apply the lessons learned to another go. Would I do it with Threshold, on another RAB, definitely!

Fundraising Update

I am
pleased to report that having successfully completed the 980 mile cycling event
in the allotted nine days, the sponsorship total is almost £2,500 for the
Prince’s Trust (plus a similar amount from Rich for his charity, Great Ormond
St. Hospital). This is enough to provide
a 12-week training course to give a troubled youth a second chance to get their
life back on track. This benefits not
only the person but the wider community, it could be our community.

Out of the
900+ taking part, the 76 cyclists riding for the Prince’s Trust as a whole have
raised about £200,000, which can:

Buy equipment for 4,000 after school
clubs

Purchase a laptop for 2,000 young
people entering further education

Ensure 3,500 young people can get to
work before their first paycheque

The Prince’s Trust Charity

The Prince’s Trust is a charity in the United Kingdom
founded in 1976 by the Prince of Wales to help vulnerable young people get
their lives on track. It supports 11 to
30-year-olds who are unemployed or struggling at school at risk of
exclusion. Many of the young people
helped by The Trust are in or leaving care, facing issues such as homelessness
or mental health problems, or have been in trouble with the law.

It runs a range of training programmes, providing practical
and financial support to build young people’s confidence and motivation. Each year they work with about 60,000 young
people; with three in four moving on to
employment, education, volunteering or training.

The Prince’s Trust is one of the most successful funding organisations in the UK and the UK’s leading youth charity, having helped over 870,000 young people turn their lives around, created 125,000 entrepreneurs and given business support to 395,000 people in the UK. From 2006 to 2016, its work supporting young people has been worth an estimated £1.4 billion to the economy.

Okay....so when I first joined CRC approximately 18 months ago, I had little confidence that I could keep up and worried about slowing others down. I considered my fitness level to be adequate but wanted to improve my cycling. My fears were soon forgotten after a few rides having realising CRC is such a great bunch of guys to cycle with, who look after you and more so if you are struggling. I still have my off days and struggle on some rides (that's the only time I will let Charlie beat me now!). The only way you can improve is to just keep getting out and ride. I love the banter and camaraderie and my cycling has improved massively since joining CRC. Oh and not forgetting the cafe stops when you've earned yourself a big slice of cake! ~Carol